


That Secret That We Know

by chchchchcherrybomb



Series: One of a Kind [7]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson, Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Adoption, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Birthday, Brunch, Cynthia is a wine mom, Dead brother's birthday mani/pedis, Dyad Institute, F/F, Fighting with your girlfriend, Gen, Gilmore girls reference, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mental Health Issues, Mother-Daughter Relationship, One of a Kind Universe, Orphan Black AU, Secret Identity, Underage Drinking, Zoe doesn't know about clone club, fighting with your mom, surprise your brother was adopted, tiramisù, yet - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 14:06:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14426997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chchchchcherrybomb/pseuds/chchchchcherrybomb
Summary: Every year on Connor's birthday, Cynthia and Zoe spend the day together. Every year they try to keep busy, keep distracted, keep themselves from feeling sad or missing Connor.Every year, Zoe hates this tradition more.----One of a Kind companion fic, takes place during chapter 56, with references to chapters 67-68.





	That Secret That We Know

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! Here's a little angsty piece I wrote about Zoe and Cynthia's relationship after "Don't Come Home For Christmas." Thanks to vinegar-and-glitter for the fic's title and her blessing to angst all over this story.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you to pick your mom up?” Hannah asked for what had to be the twentieth time. They were Zoe’s dorm room.  Hannah was perched on Zoe’s bed, while Zoe was pulling clothes out of her closet and putting them into a small duffle bag. Hannah’s roommate Dawn had her awful boyfriend over, and Hannah had borrowed Zoe’s keys to Skype with her long distance DYAD lab partner Reed while Zoe was in class. She only worked at DYAD three days a week in person, but on Fridays she usually telecommuted for a few hours to work on a small section of the genetics project. Hannah and Reed had some big nerdy thing to talk about with “synthetic sequences” that Zoe didn’t really understand. She was more interested in the way the mind worked, rather than the tiny genetic differences that Hannah obsessed over. 

Zoe hadn’t met Reed yet, but she knew that they had pink hair, and Hannah seemed to really like them. She was hoping they would properly meet when Zoe joined Hannah in a few weeks time for a visit; she had texted Evan about the four of them getting dinner, but he hadn’t gotten back to her yet about if he would be available. 

“Honestly, I would love that so much,” Zoe said, finally answering Hannah. “But after Christmas I’d  _ never  _ ever make you suffer through rush hour traffic with my mom.”

Hannah shrugged. “She wasn’t that bad at the end.”

Zoe rolled her eyes. “By ‘not that bad,’ do you mean ‘total bitch’? ‘Psychopath?’ ‘Complete cunt?’”

“Hey now,” Hannah said, giving her a lopsided smile. “Do you kiss your girlfriend with that mouth?”

“Yes. And not just her mouth,” Zoe said, smirking, and Hannah’s ears lit up like a Christmas tree. God, that was so cute. Zoe didn’t really even like dirty talk that much, but she did like the way it made Hannah blushed, so suddenly she found herself doing it more and more. Zoe leaned over, kissing Hannah, running her hands over the short, soft hairs on the back of her neck and enjoying the way it made Hannah squirm. Hannah pushed her laptop off of her lap, and Zoe straddled her hips, kissing her deeper, very much enjoying the fact that Hannah couldn’t seem to keep her hands off of her.

“You,” Hannah said, a little breathless when Zoe pulled away. “Have to get going or you’ll miss your mom at the airport.”

“She could get an uber,” Zoe said, rolling her eyes. “This is better.” She plucked playfully at a button on Hannah’s flannel, undoing it.

“Babe. Come on,” Hannah said, taking Zoe’s hand away. “I know you two are pissed off at each other right now, but I think if you blow her off to hang out with me, things are just going to get more tense.”

Zoe frowned. “I hate it when you’re right.”

“But I usually am,” Hannah said. 

Zoe climbed off of Hannah’s lap, frowning. “It’s kind of a morbid tradition, right? We go get mani-pedis and see crappy romcoms on my dead brother’s birthday so we don’t have to think about how sad we are.”

Hannah shrugged. “My mom almost burned our house down on my dad’s yahrzeit two years ago? We use an electric candle now.” She smiled. “It’s not, like, the same but… I dunno. Romcoms sound okay.”

Zoe heaved a sigh. “I just. We’re both going to end up crying, and… it sounds really fucking awful, I know, but… I just. I don’t want to do it this year. I don’t want to get into the whole performance of how much I miss my brother.”

Hannah nodded. “Maybe you could tell your mom that?”

Zoe snorted. “That’s cute.”

“I’m serious!” Hannah said. “Maybe part of the problem is that you… you’re doing this for your mom, not for yourself? Like maybe if you told that you don’t like doing this, you could find some other way to be there for each other?”

Zoe shook her head. “Trust me, if I said something she’d probably need to be institutionalized. My dad’s not really… emotionally available when it comes to Connor-stuff, you know? He just… sometimes it feels like he just wants to pretend he didn’t exist at all. If I don’t do this with her, it’ll just make things worse.” She frowned. “It’s only once a year. It’s not so bad.”

“But, it’s  _ hurting _ you-”

“It’s not, though,” Zoe said. “It’s not hurting me, it’s just… I just don’t like it. Forget I said anything.”

“I don’t see why telling your mom how you feel is such a bad idea?”

“Because it doesn’t matter how I feel, alright?” Zoe said sharply. “She’s just going to do whatever it is that she wants so, why should I rock the boat? I’ll live through one weekend.”

“But that’s not fair to you!” Hannah said, and Zoe noticed her cheeks and ears were red. “You shouldn’t have to be miserable just because your mom is-”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

Hannah didn’t seem to have heard her; her face had fallen, she had twisted her fingers in the hem of her shirt. “I just don’t understand. Why would you choose to be miserable? Is it that hard to talk to her? Isn’t there something else, somebody else -?”

“Oh my god, shut up!” Zoe shouted.

They both stopped, kind of staring. 

“I didn’t tell you about this so you could tell me how much I’m fucking this up.”

“That’s… I’m  _ not,  _ oh my God, Zoe.” Hannah bit her lip. “I just worry about you. I worry that you’re going to be miserable all weekend because you feel like you have to be for your mom.”

“Well that’s none of your business.”

“Come on, that’s not fair.”

“You don’t get to just… get into my family’s business.”

“I’m not trying to, I’m just worried about  _ you _ . You’re allowed to have your own feelings and tell your mom about them.”

Zoe groaned in frustration because she never should have said anything. She checked her phone, and now she was late. “Look I have to go.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want this to be a fight.”

“It’s… whatever,” Zoe said, shaking her head. “You can still stay here if you want, since Dawn’s being weird. I’ll see you on Sunday.” She grabbed her bag and her car keys and headed out the door before she made herself even later. 

The rational part of her mind thought Hannah was probably right. That telling her mom that this tradition of hanging out and not feeling sad only to end up feeling worse made Zoe feel like total shit. That she just wanted to spend Connor’s birthday like it was a normal day, and work out the way she felt about it on her own terms. 

But the bigger part of her thought that this was none of Hannah’s fucking business and she could fuck right off with her opinions. 

Zoe got into her car and turned the radio up loud, trying to drown out the thoughts in her brain. They sucked. There was no other word for it. Her head was too loud, her thoughts were all awful, and if she played the radio loudly maybe she would feel less like steering her car off of an overpass. 

No.

She wasn’t allowed to think like that. 

No matter how loud her head got, Zoe wouldn’t let it get that bad. She was stronger than that. She had to be. 

She did wonder sometimes if crazy was genetic. 

The drive to the airport took a long time, not helped by the fact that it had started to snow a little. Zoe found it pretty irritating that people who lived in Vermont were so bad at driving in winter, seeing as it was often snowy and cold. She’d spent half of the drive cursing out other drivers, honking her horn and flipping off idiots who were driving too fast or cutting in and out of lanes. 

Zoe called her mom as she was getting off of the freeway, thinking that this was one of the few times she actually bothered with her bluetooth, and her mom answered sounding annoyingly chipper. “Zoe, hi honey, how are you? How the roads? It looks like it’s started to snow.”

“A little slick. I’ll be there in a few minutes. Do you have all of your stuff?”

“Yes, I just have a carry on bag.” They agreed to have Zoe just pull over in the arrivals area, and Zoe hung up, trying put a smile on her face. Look calm. Look like she had not just have a big fight with her girlfriend. Because the last thing she fucking needed was her mom getting all in her face about having a girlfriend being the reason she was upset. She pulled over when she spotted her mom’s red hair and sensible winter attire. Her mom waved excitedly, and Zoe put the car in park. Her mom pointed to the back, so Zoe popped her trunk so her mom could put her bag in the back. 

Her mom climbed into the passenger seat with a smile, saying, “Hi honey!” She leaned over the center console to give Zoe’s cheek a kiss. She peered in the back seat, saying, “No Hannah?” She sounded almost disappointed. Zoe wanted to applaud her acting. That was a performance that would win her an Oscar. 

“No, I thought it should just be the two of us tonight. She might join us for brunch on Sunday, maybe?”

“Sounds good to me,” Her mom said, smiling in a way that Zoe might have thought was genuine if she was just a little more optimistic. 

“Was the flight okay?” Zoe asked, tiredly.

“It was just fine,” Her mom said smiling. “I actually sat next to a boy about your age.”

_ Oh here we go,  _ Zoe thought. “Oh yeah?”

Her mom smiled. “His name is Will.  He was flying to see his boyfriend? He kept showing me pictures of them today. It was very cute.” Her mom laughed. “Have you heard of something called  _ RuPaul’s Drag Race?  _ I guess Will does that. Drag? He’s sending in an audition tape, I guess. He wanted my opinion on the video.”

Zoe felt a bit like her mom was pandering, but she tried not to let it show. “Was it good?”

“I thought it was very funny! He didn’t even look like himself.”

“Yeah, contouring is pretty magical,” Zoe said, and she knew it came out super sarcastic and shitty but she just couldn’t stop herself. 

Her mom sighed, but apparently was determined to keep the mood light. “So, what would you like to do tonight? I’ve booked us a full spa day tomorrow.”

“Yeah?” Zoe said, getting back on the highway. “That’s...cool.”

“Maybe we can get some dinner? Catch up? I think there’s a few restaurants within walking distance of the hotel.”

“Sure,” Zoe said, nodding. 

“I’m really glad we’re doing this, honey. I miss seeing you whenever I like.”

“Yeah, I’m glad you’re here,” Zoe said. She couldn’t tell if she was lying or not. “Sorry the weather kind of sucks.”

“It’s not so bad. We had pure slush for two weeks at home.”

“Gross.”

“Oh, I had coffee with Heidi Hansen a few weeks back,” Cynthia said, conversationally. “You didn’t tell me that Evan had a boyfriend in New York!”

“I didn’t know that he did, honestly. I knew he was seeing someone, but I haven’t met the guy yet,” Zoe said, frowning. “Last I saw Evan, they hadn’t locked anything down yet. Since it was long distance and all.”

“Heidi said he spent New Year’s Eve with him in the city.”

“That’s cool,” Zoe said, making a mental note to send Evan a text demanding to know why the hell she was hearing this from her mom. “Evan says he’s really smart. I’m glad he found somebody.”

“Me too,” Her mom said. “He seems to have really come into his own since high school. He’s off in college now, he’s working with DYAD. Hard to believe he’s the same person who stuttered his way through dinner three years ago.”

“Yeah,” Zoe said flatly. She didn’t really want to think about that. She’d been a huge bitch to him, honestly. The whole Connor-and-Evan’s-secret-friendship thing had struck her as total bullshit as the time. She just kept trying to catch him in lies, and in general she was just… really rude. 

She’d apologized for it, a few months later. And he said she was fine; he got it. She had been confused and angry and had just lost her brother. 

“Evan’s come a long way,” Zoe added, trying to sound positive.

“I’m glad you and Evan are still friends,” Her mom went on. “I think… I think that would have made your brother happy. To know you two are close now.”

“I guess,” Zoe said. Frankly, she didn’t know what would have made Connor happy and she tried not to spent a lot of time thinking about. Connor, when he was alive, wasn’t always a big fan of sharing. Or of Zoe. She didn’t know if there was any sort of afterlife, but if there was, she didn’t really know that Connor would suddenly be a better person than the one he was when he died. 

Zoe didn’t like to think about how Connor was right before he died. He… was a mess. She sometimes wondered how they didn’t see the inevitable sooner. Connor had been like clinically losing it, but Zoe… 

She didn’t do anything. 

Not really. She ignored him a lot, because it was the best way to keep him from screaming at her. They just… existed near each other sometimes.She tried once, when he got home from rehab, to see if maybe he’d want to hang out but he’d thrown his phone at her and she called it a wash. 

Zoe drove for a while quietly, her mom talking about things with her grief group and a speaking engagement she had booked for next month. Her mom was going to be on some kind of panel. Zoe realized distantly that she was proud of her mom. It couldn’t be easy for her to get up in front of a room full of strangers and explain what had happened to Connor. Zoe never wanted to go see her mom speak. She knew a lot of her talks had to do with warning signs she had missed about Connor and prevention strategies and stories of other survivors. And it just. It wasn’t for her. 

She had briefly attended a group in high school for teens who had experienced the loss of a loved one, but it only lasted maybe a month. Zoe hadn’t really wanted to go, but her dad was so gray that the color was starting to take over his face and her mom was away getting her head around Connor’s death, so she didn’t super feel like she had a choice. It was a garbage group. Most of the kids had lost parents; some grandparents. A few friends. No siblings. 

And definitely no suicides. 

Zoe tried to ask Evan to come with her sometime right when they first started hanging out, thinking that maybe if he got into a safe space he might admit that he and Connor had been… That they hadn’t been just friends. But Evan refused, giving her a million excuses ranging from a dentist appointment to a late night tuba lesson (he literally said that; Zoe thought it was sort of funny in retrospect, but at the time it was obvious that his anxiety was just that bad), and Zoe had backed off quickly. Maybe Evan just didn’t do groups. Zoe knew she usually didn’t. 

Anyways she dropped out after some Bible thumper had told Zoe that suicide automatically damned you to hell and in retaliation, Zoe had spit in her face. 

But still. Her mom was able to get up in front of people, strangers, and talk about all of the ways she felt mixed up and angry and sad, and she used that to try to help people. Zoe often thought of her mom as a bit superficial and insincere, but there was something undeniably powerful and genuine about her sharing this story. 

Zoe was a little proud of her. 

Zoe parked in the lot of the hotel that her mom had booked, and the two of them grabbed their bags out of the back of the car. The hotel was fancy; too fancy if you asked Zoe, but it wasn’t like her parents didn’t have the money to blow on it. 

Her mom had the bellhop take up their bags, which Zoe thought was obnoxious, but she bit her tongue. She just wanted to keep her mom happy. This whole fucking thing was about pleasing her mom.

“Well, what do you think? Dinner?”

“Sure.”

They walked the short distance to an Italian place, which actually perked Zoe up a bit. It didn’t look like this place had banned gluten or animal products, so she might actually get to eat something that she enjoyed for a change. 

Her mom ordered a bottle of wine for them, and the waiter didn’t even ask to see Zoe’s ID. There was something kind of nice about going out with her mom. 

“This wine is nice,” Zoe said. 

“It’s kosher,” Her mom replied. 

Zoe’s smile wrinkled. “Mom.”

Her mom took a sip of wine, then set down her glass. “I… Look, Zoe, sweetheart…” She sucked in a deep breath. “I’m so sorry about Christmas.”

Zoe blinked in surprise. She’d been gearing up for a fight. She felt like when you assume there’s another step at the top of a flight of stairs, and instead your foot sinks through nothing and you stumble. Her brain jammed. “What?”

“I wasn’t kind to your girlfriend on Christmas, and I want to apologize.”

“Why?”

“Because I… I made a mistake, and I want you to know that I am sorry. And that I want to do better.”

Zoe really didn’t understand. “What…. I just. At Christmas you just.” She took a gulp of her wine. “Why now? What’s changed?”

Her mom’s smile sagged a bit. “A couple of things… I talked to your dad, and he really. He thinks Hannah is lovely. And that I was… That I didn’t give her a fair shot at Christmas.” 

“You didn’t,” Zoe said coolly. 

“I know. And I’m sorry.”

“Well great, I guess, but that doesn’t make up for it.”

“I know…” Her mom said, and she sounded really… sincere. Sorry. It was kind of freaky. “I messed this up, honey. And I want you to know I’m sorry. I’d like to try again, if that’s okay. Meet Hannah again, so I can apologize to her.”

Zoe was preparing a retort about how she wasn’t letting her mom within one hundred yards of Hannah ever again, but at that moment their salad course arrived. She watched her mom chatting with the waiter; he wasn’t much older than Zoe. Her mom asked if he was in college; when he said that he wasn’t, Zoe heard her mom say how smart she thought he was and that he ought to give college a shot. 

Zoe sighed. 

Maybe her mom was trying. 

But she didn’t know what the fuck to do with that.

So she chewed her salad loudly and tried to pretend she wasn’t there. She was somewhere else, with Hannah maybe, when they weren’t fighting, somewhere nice, somewhere else. 

“Honey?”

“Sorry,” Zoe said, trying to look like she wasn’t thinking about her girlfriend in a bikini (not that Hannah would  _ ever  _ wear one). “What?”

“I was asking how classes are going this semester.”

Zoe smiled. “I really really like my human sexuality class,” she said. “And my abnormal psychology class is really great. I’m learning loads.” She took a sip of her wine. “That one can be sort of tough though. We’re all encouraged to check in with a therapist, because apparently all of the kids who take this tend to worry that they have every major mental illness we cover. We’ve already had three girls come in convinced that they were sociopaths. Which isn’t even really what they call it anymore.”

“Oh?” Her mom said. 

“Yeah, they usually call it antisocial personality disorder.”

“Ah,” Her mom said, sipping her wine. “And… are you still thinking of going on to be a psychologist?”

Zoe nodded. “I am. I’ve applied for an internship this summer at a mental health rehab, actually. I think that would… really beneficial. And I’ve already signed up to take the GRE. While my stats class is still fresh in my mind.”

Her mom smiled at her, really, really wide. “You’re… only a sophomore. That’s spectacular. I’m so proud of you sweetheart.”

“I haven’t even done anything yet…” Zoe mumbled.

“Are you and Hannah still thinking about starting that band?” Her mom asked after their food arrived. 

Zoe finished slurping a fettuccine noodle into her mouth and took her time chewing and swallowing. She took a sip of her wine, then said, perhaps a little challengingly, “Yeah. We are. Our friend Mitch plays bass. We’re thinking… the five of us are debating renting a house together next year. And if we get the house we wanted, there’s a basement where we could play.”

“A house?” He mom said, looking tickled. “That sounds like fun. How many bathrooms? I know that can be hard with three girls.”

“Two bathrooms, five bedrooms.”

“Oh,” her mom said. “I guess I… I just assumed you and Hannah would share a room.”

“Because we’re such good  _ friends _ ?” Zoe said caustically. 

“Because you seem really serious about each other,” Her mom responded smiling. “But you’re still very young. I guess having your own space might be nice too.” 

“Yeah.”

“And your band would be able to practice. How great. It sounds really wonderful.”

Zoe wondered if she was already so drunk that her mom sounded nice. “I guess.” She waited for her mom to challenge her, undercut the idea, tell her she was wasting her time. She didn’t. Instead she asked if they were going to be writing their own music.

Her mom, it turned out, had been in a band in college. 

“No way!” Zoe said while her mom poured them each another glass of wine. She watched her mom call over their waiter and order a second bottle, and Zoe could practically see the dollar signs in his eyes as he brought it over. “What kind of music did you play?”

Her mom sighed. “It was silly, of course. But we did a lot of… Pearl Jam covers.”

“Pearl Jam?” Zoe exploded, laughing. “I didn’t even know you listened to them.”

“It was the nineties,” Her mom shrugged. “I had played the cello growing up, and I picked up bass on a whim and…” She sighed. “Before I met your father, there was this boy who lived in my dorm who… He wore the tightest jeans,” Her mom said, drinking the rest of the wine in her glass. “He had just. The cutest butt. My girlfriends and I always said so. But he started a Pearl Jam cover band, and he needed a bassist and I… was in the band for a while.”

“What happened? With you and this guy?”

“Nobody took me seriously as a musician,” Her mom said, “I was always just Liam’s girlfriend. They all called me a buzzkill, and by the end of junior year I said enough. Broke up with Liam, quit the band, and ended up meeting your father not long after. It was fun while it lasted though. I’m sure I’ve got pictures at home somewhere.”

“It’s been hard getting the band idea off the ground this semester. Since Hannah’s working so much at DYAD,” Zoe said. 

Her mom frowned a little. “Now that is a story I know pretty well.”

“Dad works with them that much?”

“Oh yes. Since the nineties. He stopped traveling as much after he brought Connor home, a right before before we found out we were expecting you.”

Zoe took a swallow of her wine. “What?”

“What, what?” her mom said, confused. 

“What do you mean after dad brought Connor home? Like, from the hospital? Why didn’t you bring him home?”

Her mom’s cheeks flushed and she quickly said, “Do you want to get some dessert? I’m a bit full but we could always ask them to wrap it up and have it later-”

“Mom,” Zoe said, annoyed. “Why are you being weird? What did you mean? Was he in the hospital for a while or something?”

“I don’t want to talk about this here.”

Zoe blinked in surprise at her mom’s sharp tone. “Jesus, fine.”

Her mom asked for the check and ordered them each a piece of tiramisu to go, and Zoe excused herself to the bathroom. Her mom was being weird. Really fucking weird. She was apologizing and being nice about Hannah and now got all edgy about talking about Connor? That part made no sense: Zoe’s mom  _ loved  _ to talk about Connor. If anything, him killing himself made her just want to talk about Connor more. She was like… doing speaking engagements where all she did was talk about Connor. She showed off his kindergarten school picture and cried in front of people saying that she missed the signs that he was mentally ill...

She wondered if maybe her mom had like… finally cracked or something. Usually when this kind of thought struck, Zoe would text Hannah for her opinion on, like, how probable it was that Zoe’s mom had a brain tumor. 

But then Zoe remembered that they were in a fight  _ about _ her mom and put her phone away. No Hannah then. And she couldn’t text Evan, because lately it was taking him like… for-fucking-ever to get back to her. She’d probably send him a text asking if he thought her mom had a brain tumor and hear back just as she loaded Cynthia back on a plane. 

Zoe glanced at her reflection (she seemed to have inherited her mom’s two drink-rosy cheeks) and decided she was going to… suggest her mom have another glass or two of wine back at the hotel. Maybe if she was liquored up, she might explain just what the fuck was going on with her this trip. 

They walked back through the snow to the hotel, and her mom commented that she liked that the street still had holiday lights on the trees. “This is very nice,” Her mom said. “You should take Hannah for dinner down here some time, before the weather warms up. It’s all very cozy.”

“Are you okay?” Zoe blurted. 

Her mom looked at her thoughtfully. “You know what? I think… I think I actually might be.”

Zoe stared. “You seem… better?” She tried. “Less… I dunno. Sad.”

Her mom wrapped an arm around her. “I am, I think. It’s been a hard few years.” Her mom’s grip on Zoe’s shoulders tightened. “How are you holding up?”

She frowned. “It’s… honestly the whole thing is weird, you know? Like… okay do you remember when I was thirteen and really into Jodi Picoult books?” Zoe said. 

“How could I forget? It was the first time you and Connor agreed to go to the library together. I thought I was having a stroke.”

Zoe smiled, kind of. “I read sometimes!”

“I’m not saying you didn’t,” Her mom said gently. “But you… you know. Went outside sometimes. Unlike your brother, who definitely ended up with a vitamin D deficiency right before his twelfth birthday.”

Zoe laughed. They walked into the hotel lobby, and Zoe’s mom unwrapped her arms from around her. They rode the elevator up in silence, and Zoe thought, angry, that even the point she was trying to make about Connor got interrupted by him. 

“Sorry,” Her mom said, taking off her coat and hanging it up. She put the box with tiramisu into the mini fridge, then turned to face Zoe.  “I just… I wanted to give you my full attention, honey, and the hotel lobby isn’t always the best location.”

Zoe nodded. That was weird. 

“So you were saying? About that book?”

“Yeah, um. It’s called  _ My Sister’s Keeper,  _ and it’s the one where the girl is like sick for her whole life and her sister is like always giving her blood and bone marrow and whatever. Well… anyway. There’s this part in the book, I dunno. I kind of think those books are boring now. I tried rereading one over the summer and there are all sorta… formulaic? Like there’s always a twist ending. Not important…” Zoe realized she was rambling a little.  _ Damn it wine _ . She stopped, clearing her throat, to get back on track. “The thing is at the start of the book it says this thing like, if you have a sibling and they die, do you stop saying you have one? Or something like that. And. I guess… it’s kind of hard. Like that’s a first date question, you know, like ‘what’s your family like? Any siblings?’ And… I always. It’s like…. I don’t know how to answer that.”

“I know what you mean.” Her mom looked tired then. “‘Do you have any kids’ is hard to answer. Because… I don’t want to leave him out. It just… doesn’t seem fair.”

Zoe blinked rapidly then, feeling stupidly like she might cry. “I think we need wine for this conversation.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Her mom agreed, sweeping across the room. She picked up the phone and ordered a bottle of wine from room service. When she hung up, she announced she announced that this conversation “required pajamas.” She retreated to the bathroom, coming out in a matching set of blue pajamas, with her hair in a ponytail and her face free of makeup. Despite what her mom said, Zoe always thought she looked younger without all of the makeup. There was a knock on the door, and her mom shooed her off to change while she dealt with room service. 

Zoe washed her face and changed into her pajamas (a pair of sweatpants she had owned since high school, and Hannah’s old marching band t-shirt that said WEST HIGH DRUMLINE on the back. Zoe had found out there were videos and spent hours one weekend visiting with Hannah’s family begging Hannah to show her one, and she finally relented after her brother Daniel got involved. Zoe thought she looked super cute, even in her dumb marching band hat). She pulled her hair up in a ponytail and thought again about texting Hannah. 

Because of course Hannah was right. Sitting here, prepping for what seemed like a Big Conversation with her mom? That. Was different. 

Maybe things could be different if Zoe just… said something 

Zoe hated it when she was wrong. 

She ought to just text Hannah and apologize. 

Zoe hated apologizing. 

She was bad at it too. Probably another thing her parents fucked up; Connor was such a problem child that when Zoe misbehaved it was… mostly ignored. The only time she ever had to apologize to him, it was for stealing his tooth fairy money to go buy herself some bubblegum at the grocery store. And even then, Zoe knew she’d been a snot. She’d mumbled sorry and then ran off to throw a fit that she hadn’t even been allowed to chew her gumball bought with stolen quarters. 

She didn’t know where to start with Hannah. 

So instead she walked out to see her mom pouring herself a glass of white wine, frowning a little. Her phone was sitting on the bed. “Everything okay?” Zoe asked. 

“Just your dad. I worry about him. I tried texting but he hasn’t responded yet.”

“Yeah.” Zoe thought about how much of a zombie he was that first year after Connor died. He just worked nonstop. He missed three of her jazz band concerts, even though he made a point to be around for those. “What’s he doing this weekend?”

Her mom gave a sad smile. “I don’t think he has any plans. I asked him if he wanted to come here with us, but… I think it’s just hard for him.”

Zoe poured herself a glass of wine. “Can I say something without you getting all quiet and angry?”

Her mom sighed. “I can try.”

“I don’t get dad,” Zoe said, taking a sip of her wine. “He and Connor… they weren't even that close, you know? I guess I… I don’t get it. That he’s… so messed up about this.”

“I think… I think your dad had some… specific expectations in mind about having a boy,” Her mom said carefully. “And Connor… he was. Different than we expected.” She smiled a little then. “He really doted on Connor when he was a baby, though. Same with you. He just… really loves babies. He took a three week long paternity leave after you were born, too. Never even complained about having to feed you in the middle of the night or anything.”

Something about that caught Zoe as weird again. “How come he only took paternity leave when I was born?”

Her mom frowned. “Your father would be upset if he knew I was telling you this.”

“Telling me what?”

She watched as her mom downed her entire glass of wine. “Connor… We adopted Connor. When he was a baby.”

“What?” Zoe shook her head. That wasn’t right, that wasn’t, people used to say how alike they looked. “You  _ adopted _ him?” She took a sip of her wine. “He was adopted?”

“He was.”

“What? Why? From where? Do you know his, like, birth parents or whatever?” _ Do they know that he died?  _ Zoe thought, but she couldn’t make her lips form the words.  _ Do they know we didn’t stop him? _

“We don’t. It was… your father and I had a very hard time conceiving,” Her mom said, her face pinched and frowning. “And just one day, your dad walks in with a baby.”

“He just… came home with a baby?”

“I know. It was… I thought he was crazy. I honestly wondered at first if he had cracked after all of the hormones and the failed IVF treatments and stolen one from the mall or something.” She shook her head. “All I know is that your father knew someone from work who needed an immediate placement for a two month old baby, for a closed adoption. And your dad brought Connor home, and that was that. We signed a few papers, and he was ours… and then I found out I was pregnant with you. It… at the time it felt like a miracle. We’d been trying for so long, and suddenly we were a family.”

“Did he even know?” Zoe asked. “Connor. Did you tell him?”

“We didn’t.”

“So just to…  _ I’m _ not adopted, right?” Zoe tried to recall if there were pictures of her from the hospital as a newborn, if there were pictures of her mom with a big pregnant belly.

“No,” her mom said. She got up and refilled her wine glass. “You aren’t.”

“Why wouldn’t you tell Connor that?” Zoe asked. “It wouldn’t have like, changed anything, we were still a family just… why hide it?”

Zoe didn’t know if it was strictly true that nothing would change if Connor knew he was adopted. She could picture her petulant, ten year old self telling him how they weren’t really brother and sister, how they weren’t really family when he did something embarrassing like get into fights at school. 

Her mom sighed. “It was your father’s idea. Insistence really. He made me swear I’d never tell anyone that we had adopted Connor. I think… well, I thought he was being protective. That he didn’t want Connor to feel like he was… different, somehow.” Her mom paused, gulping down the rest of her glass of wine. “Fucked that up, didn’t we?”

“ _Mom_!" Zoe said, a little scandalized. She’d never heard her mother say “fuck” before. It felt wrong.

“Well it’s true, isn’t it? We screwed up with him…And I think we screwed up with you too...” She trailed off, looking at Zoe sadly. “I don’t… I don’t want to screw up like that with you anymore. I want… I want to be a better mom. I know I’ve… I haven’t been great these past few years. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own feelings that I haven’t been there for you. But I love you. And I want you and I to… be closer. Make it work.”

“Jesus mom,” Zoe said, and suddenly she was crying. “What the  _ hell _ ?” They were Catholic; they did not do honest emotional communication.

Her mom gave her a watery smile. “You know how proud of you I am, right?” Her mom went on. “I could never do what you did. Go far away from school, study something you’re passionate about… and you’ve dealt with so much already. You’re just… You’re so strong, Zoe, stronger than I have ever been and I am just. So. Proud.”

Zoe blinked quickly. “Mom I…” She stopped. She cleared her throat. “Doing this every year… it’s hard, for me.”

Her mom nodded, taking a seat beside Zoe. 

The moment she said it… the floodgates just opened. “I hate doing this. I hate it so much. I don’t… I don’t know how to do this,” Zoe said. “I don’t know how to do this thing where we pretend that we’re fine at this time of year. I can’t... “ She took a deep breath. “I want to be fine. I want to be fine and have fun with you and take my mind off of things with you, but I  _ can’t _ . Because it’s always there, you know? He’s always fucking there, always just out of sight, at the back of my mind… and I. I just want to… I don’t know. I just want to feel  _ normal  _ and there’s no way to be normal about this.”

“I know sweetheart,” Her mom said, smoothing out Zoe’s hair. “You… you’re allowed to feel however you feel. I know… I know you’ve. You’ve been strong for me and your dad for a long time. But… That’s not fair. I’m supposed to be the mom, the grown up. And I should be taking care of you. So. Whatever you want to do… we’ll do that. Alright? Whatever you want.”

* * *

 

In the end, Zoe and her mom ended up staying up far too late watching a terrible movie on Lifetime. They finished the bottle of wine and ended up demolishing the tiramisu sometime after midnight.

Zoe woke up with a fuzzy headache, her head propped on her mom’s shoulder. The television was still on… 

Her mom was snoring slightly, her mouth open a little. 

Zoe crept out of bed quietly, glancing at the clock. It was early still, really early. Zoe walked to the bathroom, where she brushed the wine residue off of her teeth. 

She walked back into the room proper to see an old episode of  _ Gilmore Girls  _ was starting. She had a seat at the foot of the other bed, watching. 

Zoe hadn’t watched  _ Gilmore Girls _ since Connor died. 

They had gotten into a weird habit for a while there. 

Zoe usually tried to avoid spending a lot time at home in high school. Things were shitty; her parents and Connor fought a lot and she preferred not to be there if she could. 

But then at the end of her sophomore year, all of her friends got jobs, which meant Zoe had nowhere to go but home once school let out. It sucked. She was bored and things were tense and her idiot brother was high more often than not (though her parents seemed to be… ignoring that for some reason). 

To kill time between school and homework, Zoe decided to watch  _ Gilmore Girls.  _ A few of her friends said it was a show that she had to see, and it wasn’t exactly like she had anything better to do. So she picked it up. She usually watched a few episodes after school in the living room at the old house, stretched out on the sofa and wondering if life with a mom who liked you was actually as quimsical as the show made it out to be most days. She found Lorelei hilarious; Zoe cracked up laughing one day when she realized how much Alana Beck and Paris Geller were alike. Alana had come over once last year because she was doing some project on Huck Finn with Connor. She had nice hair, Zoe thought, and a cute smile. 

About a week into this little Netflix experience, Zoe came home to find Connor parked on the sofa in her usual spot, clearly stoned. 

Zoe sighed. “I wanted to watch something.”

He shrugged. “So watch it.”

“Fine,” She said, switching on the television. Zoe flopped down on the opposite end of the sofa and turned on the next episode. 

To Zoe’s surprise, Connor just. Sat there. She wasn’t even sure he was was watching, but he didn’t get up or fall asleep for two whole episodes.

It was probably the closest thing to quality time the two of them had had since middle school. 

Zoe thought it was a fluke, but it went on for a while. Zoe watched  _ Gilmore Girls. _ Connor sat on the other side of the couch, high, and occasionally offered commentary. 

He hated Rory’s first boyfriend Dean.”That guy is boring.” Zoe had liked Dean at first, but he got a bit possessive and weird in the second season once Jess was introduced. Connor liked Jess; it was obvious. 

If they were the sort of siblings who talked, she would have teased him about it. Because of course Connor liked the bad boy bookworm. She didn’t know if he wanted to be Jess or make out with him, but it was funny. 

If they the kind of siblings that talked, she would have teased him. 

But they weren’t.

It made her feel a little better, Zoe thought. Knowing where Connor was, even if he was clearly high out of his mind. Once or twice he would get up in the middle of episodes, looking kind of pale and sweaty, only to return a few minutes later, eyes duller.

She kept waiting for her parents to do something. Say something. She knew that they knew but… Mostly it was just her and Connor, alone after school, working their way through  _ Gilmore Girls.  _

They only got about halfway through season five. They had their first almost-conversation in weeks (“Logan is a dick,” Connor said. “Ugh, I know, I hate him,” Zoe replied) about the show. It was almost nice. Almost normal. He was obviously high but… Zoe thought maybe it might just have been pot for once. 

Then Connor went to rehab. 

Then he came back, and he was still high a lot. She tried to hang out with him once, asked if maybe she could braid his hair (he was always braiding hers when they were little and the memory kept jabbing her that summer like a pin hiding in her clothes). He threw his phone at her when she asked. So Zoe didn’t ask again. She didn’t ask if he wanted to watch TV or if he wanted to talk. She convinced her parents to let her take her own part time job just to have something else to do after school once the semester started up again. 

And then Connor went to school on the first day of senior year, shoved Evan Hansen in the hallway, wrote a suicide note addressed to Evan, cut off all of his hair, and killed himself on a park bench.  

 

Zoe blinked herself back into the present. She wasn’t even watching the television; it was a season with Jess in it. She couldn’t place the episode. 

She was just fucking crying because on Monday her big brother should have been turning twenty one. But her memories of him stopped at seventeen, and her mom was a mess and Zoe was supposed to get a pedicure with her later and how the fuck was she supposed to do that without ever having seen how  _ Gilmore Girls  _ ended. 

“Sweetheart?”

She couldn’t fucking breathe. Her face burned because she had apparently been crying long enough that the salt from her tears stung her cheeks. Her mom came and sat by her side, petting her greasy hair and talking to her in a low calming voice. “It’s okay to be sad, honey.”

Zoe wiped her face aggressively, pulling away from her mom. “I’m… I’m not.”

“You’re not sad?”

Zoe shook her head, feeling just… she didn’t know. Pissed. She was pissed. “I’m angry,” she said, like she was testing out the words. Like they were thin ice and she didn’t know if they could support her weight. 

They seemed to hold. 

“I am so fucking angry.”

Her mom looked a little scandalized. 

“I tried… not my best or anything, but I tried. With Connor. We… we would watch TV. He… he’d be high and I’d keep an eye on him and we’d watch TV sometimes. And it was almost okay. And he… he just left us, mom. He quit. He quit, but I didn’t. And I had every right to. After the way he treated me? The way he used to scream at me, threaten me? He walked away and it’s not fucking fair. I wasn’t done yet. I hadn’t thrown in the towel yet. It’s not… it’s not fucking fair.”

“I know.”

“And then he wrote his note to Evan?” Zoe said, and it was like she was realizing for the time first time that she even cared about that. “Like. Well fuck us, right? He must have really hated us that he wrote his note to someone we didn’t even know he knew.” Zoe took a shuddering breath, and forged onward. “And then he talked about me like… like we were close? Like we were anything to each other? ‘All my hope is pinned on Zoe, who I don’t even know, and doesn’t know me. Maybe if I could just talk to her. Maybe nothing would be different at all. I wish everything was different.’ What the fuck did that mean? How was I supposed to help when we couldn’t even talk to each other?  What did I do wrong, mom? What didn’t I do?”

“Sweetheart, you didn’t do anything wrong. This wasn’t your fault.”

“And… where the fuck were you after he died mom? I needed you, I needed my mom, I needed you and dad and you both… disappeared. You left me alone. I had nobody who understood what was going on, because the only people who got it just… left me alone.”

“Zoe, I-”

“I mean I get it, you lost a kid, and that was hard,” Zoe said, sobbed, whatever. “But I was  _ sixteen _ . I needed you… I needed someone to take care of me and you left me to fend for myself. Do you even know how Evan and I became friends, mom? Do you?”

“I… I don’t.”

“I just… started showing up at his house. Because nobody was home and I quit my job and I was miserable and angry and I kept… It didn’t feel safe to be home alone. Because I just kept thinking about how jealous I was that Connor had checked out of his shitty life but I wasn’t allowed to. I was jealous that he had died… So I just started showing up at Evan’s, forcing my presence on him until we started talking. How fucked up is that? I just… wore him down. Like a creepy frat boy. He probably doesn’t even like me, he just feels sorry for me because I’m still the girl with the dead brother who showed up in her brother’s suicide note and I can’t make that go away. And now I’m in a fight with my fucking girlfriend who is the only person in three and half years to look at me like I’m not some kind of walking tragedy because I was too scared to say any of this to you!”

“Baby,” Her mom said, pulling her into a tight tight hug. “I am so so sorry.” She squeezed her tightly, so tightly that Zoe could hardly breathe. “I want you to talk to me. Tell me what’s going on with you. No matter what.”

“Okay.”

Zoe cried on her mom’s shoulder for a long long time. Until she didn’t seem to have any tears left to shed or any screams left lurking under her skin. 

“I’m sorry you and Hannah are in a fight.”

Zoe hiccuped. “I need to apologize to her.”

“So do I,” Her mom said. “I just want you to be happy. You know that right?”

Zoe nodded. And realized that maybe, just maybe, she actually believed it.

* * *

 

In the end, the did keep the mani-pedi appointments, but they cancelled the other spa services. Zoe asked the nail tech to paint her short fingernails black, and her mom smiled at her. 

After they had their nails done, Zoe and her mom wandered around town for a while. They spent hours at a used bookstore, and her mom ended up buying nothing, but leaving a $100 bill inside of a copy of  _ The Little Prince.  _ Zoe thought that was kind of funny, and exactly the sort of dickhead move her brother would pull attempting to do something nice. 

They ended up calling her dad later that night on Skype, and Zoe teased him that he needed to stop working so hard because he didn’t have any hair left to turn gray. 

Zoe and her mom watched the movie  _ School of Rock  _ because it was playing on TV, and her mom told that it was Zoe’s favorite movie as a little kid. Whenever they had to hire a babysitter, that was a surefire way to get Zoe to settle down for a while. She asked for a guitar for her third birthday, her mom told her, and used to rope Connor into games of “rockstars,” which apparently consisted mostly of Zoe playing air guitar while Connor clapped on the couch. 

“It was really cute,” her mom said. “You used to throw concerts for your dad and I. It was cute. We even let both of you have mohawks for a while. I think you were three and four? You looked silly, but it grew out after a while.”

“Shut up!” Zoe said. “I don’t remember that.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure I’ve got a photo…” Her mom pulled her laptop out and looked through it for a while. “Here you go.” She turned the screen to show Zoe. 

Zoe laughed immediately. In the photo, she was clearly posing, trying to be super cool even though she was wearing a bright pink tutu. But her baby hair was spiked into baby-blond mohawk. Beside her, Connor was in a striped t-shirt, his brown hair also gelled into a mohawk. He was growling at the camera, a pudgy four year old fist clenched in a fist. They were both clearly striking silly poses. Her mom had even more photos; two where little Zoe and little Connor had smeared eyeliner across their faces (in Zoe’s case, over the bridge of her nose; Connor’s was sort of making him look like a raccoon). 

“I wish I’d taken more videos,” Her mom said. “The two of you were so funny together.”

Zoe smiled at her mom. “Could you send me those pictures?”

“Sure thing, sweetheart.”

* * *

 

Around eight o’clock, Zoe excused herself to the lobby to call Hannah. Her heart was thumping loudly in her chest, because what if Hannah was still mad? What if Hannah thought Zoe was a spoiled brat who had been a total bitch and wanted to break up with her?

“Zoe?”

“Hey Hannah…” Zoe started. She sucked in a big breath. 

“I’m so sorry.”

“What?” Zoe said, surprised. “Why are you sorry? I’m sorry. I was a huge bitch to you.”

“But I totally overstepped. It’s not my job to tell you how to talk to your mom, and I’m sorry.”

Zoe laughed. “We’re kind of a disaster, aren’t we?”

“Just a little bit,” Hannah said, and Zoe could picture her smiling. It made her smile. 

Lord she was so weak and so so bi. 

“So I talked to my mom,” Zoe said. “Because you were right. And she apologized, and we… kinda did whatever I wanted today. It was sort of nice.”

“I’m really happy to hear that.”

“Oh my god, and I can’t believe I didn’t lead with this… my brother was adopted.”

“What?” Hannah said. “You didn’t know?”

“I know, right? It’s bonkers. My family is so repressed and weird.”

“Are you adopted?” Hannah asked. 

“Apparently not. Who knows.” She sighed. “My mom told me she was sorry… about Christmas.”

“Oh.”

“I know, right? She um… she wants you to come to brunch with us tomorrow.” 

“Oh.”

“You don’t have to come, obviously,” Zoe said. “I understand totally if you don’t want to come, but I wanted to tell you that you’re invited and... Yeah.”

“I’ll come,” Hannah said. “What sort of place is it?” Zoe could hear her standing up. “What should I wear?”

“Just… whatever you want. Your pajamas. I don’t care.”

“Seriously Zo.”

They both seemed to take a pause realizing what Hannah had said. 

“Shit I’m sorry… it just kind of slipped out. I know you don’t, like, want people calling you that, that was shitty of me.”

“No,” Zoe said, smiling brightly. “You can call me Zo. I don’t think Connor would mind.” She snorted. “He’d like you, I think. But he’d give me hell about it.”

Hannah laughed softly. “Brothers, right?”

“Exactly,” Zoe said, smiling, “Where are you right now?”

“Your room,” Hannah said. “It seems most of my clothes have migrated here, and apparently Dawn is impervious to UTIs because when I ran across the hall to get my shower stuff, they were still at it. Hope you don’t mind that I borrowed your shampoo.”

“I don’t mind at all.”

“It’s kinda nice to smell like you,” Hannah said. “I miss you.” A sigh. “I’m just… so _gay_.”

Zoe laughed. “I love you.”

“I know.”

“Don’t Han Solo me, please.”

“Come on, you’d make a great Princess Leia.” Hannah laughed again. “That’s a good idea for a Halloween costume. Jot that down.”

“Can’t be worse than Halloween this year.”

Hannah snorted. “I still cannot believe you flashed the motel clerk.”

“We needed a distraction to get Sarah into the room! They wouldn’t have let her stay if they saw all the fake blood and real vomit,” Zoe said, giggling. “And I didn’t have a bra on. It was a judgement call, and it worked.”

“You know that was also the first time I saw your boobs, right?”

“Obviously you liked what you saw.”

“Dude you know I had a crush on you from the second I saw you across the hall,” Hannah said. “I could have totally lofted my bed with Daniel. I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

“With your big strong lesbian arms?” Zoe teased. 

“Hell yes with my big strong lesbian arms. I could probably bench press you,” Hannah said, and Zoe giggled because Hannah was like four inches shorter than she was, and the heaviest thing Zoe had ever seen her carry was Sarah’s purse. “What time for brunch tomorrow?”

“Eleven.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Wear something butch,” Zoe said. 

Hannah laughed. “Oh no, there goes my plan to raid your closet.”

“Half of your clothes are in my closet,” Zoe said. 

“...You’re not wrong.”

 

* * *

Zoe is a little bit mortified when her mother stands up and waves enthusiastically at Hannah from the bench they were sat on while waiting to be seated for brunch. “Mom please,” she mumbled. 

Hannah gave them both an awkward, lopsided smile as she walked up to them. “Good morning,” She said smiling. Zoe was happy to see Hannah had worn a flannel to brunch. She looked… comfortable for a change. Zoe gave her a quick kiss and grabbed her hand, squeezing tightly. “Nice to see you again, Mrs. Murphy.”

“Nice to see you too, Hannah,” Her mom said, smiling a little sheepishly. “And you can call me Cynthia.”

Hannah nodded. “Sure,” she said. 

They were escorted to a table about a minute later, immediately greeted by a waitress with coffee. Hannah and Zoe both asked for coffee, and Zoe’s mom ordered a mimosa. “I hate flying alone,” She admitted. “So I might as well have a drink.”

Zoe barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes, because Hannah said, “I’m not big on flying either. My internship is sending me to Boston for a few days later this month, and I’m already a little nervous.”

“Don’t worry,” Zoe’s mom said, smiling. “DYAD always flies everyone business class. It’s a lot less stressful.”

Hannah’s ears went pink. “I’m just an intern…”

They were interrupted by the delivery of Zoe’s mom’s mimosa, and then they gave their orders to the waitress. 

“I think they flew Evan business class over Thanksgiving,” Zoe said, thinking she remembered him saying something about that. “He’s just an intern too.”

“Larry said the project you’re working on is really something,” Zoe’s mom said. “He thinks it might help them cure cancer.”

Zoe beamed over at Hannah. “Told you that you were gonna cure cancer.”

“Really, I’m just working on a tiny part of a theoretical project,” Hannah said with pink ears. 

“Well I’m still impressed,” Zoe’s mom went on. “I was never science minded, and I think it’s a wonderful opportunity. We need more women in the hard sciences.”

Hannah’s whole face lit up. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. It’s hard to be a woman in STEM, and from what Larry’s told me, you have been a real asset to the research team. I’m happy to see that Zoe’s found a partner who is so… motivated and intelligent.”

“Mom,” Zoe said, voice pained. 

“No, please, Zoe,” Her mom said, voice firm. She turned to Hannah, her face serious. “I was very unkind to you when you visited us over Christmas, and I wanted to apologize to you. You seem like a very kind person, and I let my own personal hang ups get in the way of getting to know you. I am very sorry.”

Hannah’s face was bordering on purple. Zoe nudged her because she wasn’t sure Hannah was breathing properly, and she took a labored breath a mom later. “Thank you. For saying that,” Hannah managed to choke out. 

“There’s one more thing,” Zoe’s mom said, stooping to pick up something from the floor. “I know I wasn’t initially very supportive of the idea of you two working on music together,” She put two small packages on the table. “But I am old and I think sometimes I forget that being young is supposed to be fun. So I hope that you will… forgive me for that.” She passed them each one of the packages, encouraging them to open them right away. 

Zoe undid the wrappings to find a new guitar strap, in stripes of pink, purple, and blue. She smiled at her mom, and looked over to see Hannah was holding a pair of rainbow drumsticks. 

“I hope you don’t mind that they were a bit... Obvious,” Zoe’s mom said. 

“I love it,” Zoe said. 

“These are great, Mrs.. Er. Cynthia,” Hannah said, her cheeks still pink. “I really really love them.”

* * *

On Monday, Connor’s twenty first birthday, Zoe posted the photo of the pair of them with their little kid mohawks on facebook. She wasn’t big on sharing this stuff on social media. She didn’t make a big “I miss you” post. She just posted the picture, captioned “Happy birthday.”

Later that day, with Hannah holding her hand, Zoe contacted the counseling center at her university and set up an intake appointment. The woman she spoke with was kind, and managed to get Zoe in to see someone the next day. 

So she called her mom about it. 

“Hi sweetheart.”

“Hi mom.”

“How are you doing today?” Her mom asked. They hadn’t spoken on Monday. They usually didn’t. 

“Not great,” Zoe admitted. “I’m actually… I made an appointment to meet with a counselor this afternoon.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t want you to freak out,” Zoe said. “I just… I think after this weekend I realized there’s a lot of stuff I still need to… deal with.”

Her mom took a deep breath. “I think that’s… that’s a great idea, honey. I think that’s really smart. I am so proud of you for taking care of yourself.”

“So you don’t think I’m crazy?” Zoe asked sheepishly.

“Not at all. I think you’re incredibly brave. And I’m so proud of you.”

“You don’t have to keep saying that.”

“I just want you to know I mean it.”

 

The appointment went fine. The woman she met with was kind and smelled like vanilla and she talked Zoe through all of the paperwork and set her up for weekly meetings with a campus counselor. “It sounds like you’ve been having a hard time,” The woman, Dr. Fischer said. “And I think you deserve to start feeling better.”

* * *

She made a point to be better about calling her mom after that. It was like she had finally managed to clear her throat enough that she had a voice again.

Her mom was a pretty decent listener. 

She walked Zoe through the process of filling out her first rental application, and immediately offered to co-sign the lease if that would help Zoe’s group secure the house they were looking at.

“I’m supposed to be speaking in Schenectady, New York at the end of April,” Her mom told her the last time that they talked. “What do you say I take a little road trip up to see you? Maybe you and Hannah could show me the new place? Just the outside, of course, just so I can see the neighborhood.”

“That sounds awesome,” Zoe said, legitimately meaning it. “Sarah wants to meet you anyway. She saw the talk you gave a few months ago and wanted to know if you actually know Sue Klebold. Don’t tell her if you do. She’ll be creepy about it.”

Her mom laughed awkwardly. “I will not mention Sue in front of Sarah. Noted.”

“Thank you. She’s got a weird true crime obsession and it’s just… not right.”

“So what are you up to this weekend?” Her mom asked her. “Big plans?”

“Actually yeah,” Zoe said. “I’m joining Hannah on her little business trip later today.”

“That’s right! I had next weekend circled for some reason,” her mom said, and Zoe imagined her crossing out a note in her planner. “Anything in particular planned, or are you just taking advantage of Hannah’s expense account for the weekend?”

“Don’t be gross mom.”

“I meant fancy dinners, you’re the one who made it gross!” Her mom replied. 

“We’re supposed to have dinner with her lab partner Reed and Evan,” Zoe said, desperate to change the subject.”Though, I’m not sure about Evan since apparently he gave himself a concussion yesterday.”

“Oh no, how did that happen?”

“Rogue shoelace,” Zoe said, with a slight laugh. “Though Hannah said he seems a bit overworked, so I think I’m gonna go straight to his place while Hannah finishes up at work to try to make him go back to bed for a while.”

“I hope someone stayed with him last night,” Zoe’s mom said. 

“Yeah, I think Hannah said that his boyfriend came in from New York,” She said. “Maybe if I’m lucky I can finally meet the mystery man.”

“You’ll have to tell me if he’s cute,” Her mom joked. 

“I know! Apparently he’s some kind of hipster without a facebook. I’ve been trying to find ‘Ben Childs’ online for weeks with no luck.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Mom,” Zoe said, hesitantly. “Do you ever wonder if there was… something going on between Evan and Connor?”

“What do you mean?”

“That maybe… I dunno. Maybe they weren’t just friends.”

Her mom sighed on the other side of the line. “You know, I don’t know. I know they were close, but… They were  _ so secretive _ . We didn’t even know that they were friends until after Connor… Honestly I didn’t realize that Evan liked boys until this year.” Her mom’s voice sounded watery. “But I think they would have been good together. You know? I think they might have been good for each other.”

“Me too.”

“Well,” her mom said clearing her throat. “I know you have a plane to catch, so I won’t keep you. Have a great time sweetheart. Text me when you land.”

“I will.”

“Love you sweetheart.”

“Love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Bon Iver's "Blood Bank."


End file.
